Juvenile Delinquents
by idontuseanymorebutt
Summary: What could she have done that was so bad that she was having doubts about herself in such a way? He was aching to know now. But he wouldn't dare ask. But she looked like such a good girl, not someone devious or maniacal, like she didn't belong here.


**(A/n- First Duncan and Gwen. Enjoy :D)**

_**Juvenile Delinquents. **_

"Duncan Travis?" the judge called. Violently the cops tossed him forward into the stands. "Aye! Watch the merchandise, bro." Duncan yelled, shaking his clothes as straight as he could with his hands cuffed behind his back. The trademark smirk never left his face.

"So. Judge Makin. What am I being framed for now?" Duncan spat, chewing his gum obnoxiously. The Judge just sighed and rubbed his temples. "Every week I hear something about you. And you NEVER disappoint me by showing up here. First it was a car-jacking, then public nudity, what's next? 3rd degree murder?" Duncan smirk just grew as he spoke. "I'm open to it."

With the slam of gavel, and a tackling of a certain Duncan against the floor in a failed attempt to escape, he was on his way to another 3 weeks in Juvenile Hall. This didn't even surprise the cops anymore, who had memorized Duncan's plots and schemes of 'escapes'. Even preserved a cell for him.

"Pocket knife?" The guard asked. Duncan dug around in his pockets and pulled it out with a smile, opening it to slam it into the desk. The guard was unamused, and Duncan suffered another slam to the desk. "God, give a guy a break?" Duncan screamed, but only slammed into another wall.

"Put him in his cell." The guard said. "Cell 418" Duncan and the cops said in unison. This was all too mundane to a smiling Duncan. "Hey, hey. Don't put him in there with that girl." Someone screamed. "Unfair!" said another. Duncan only laughed at them, wishing so badly he could flip them all off.

He heard the cop's mumble something, but he could only make out certain words. "She should straighten him out." Was the only thing he heard before then un-cuffed him and pushed him into the small room. With a large thud, he fell to the concrete floor. "Fuck you." He snarled, but the cops just laughed and locked the gates.

Slowly, he stood up, wiping the invisible dirt off of his bright orange jumpsuit. He noticed his name was still carved into the wooden bench, from when his boredom got the best of him and he had sharpened his nails to a point on the bars.

"What. The. Fuck. Fabulous. First I get a lesbo and now I've got a cocky punk." A girl groaned, automatically giving Duncan his full attention. Girl? Duncan likey.

She was pretty hot. Midnight blue and black striped hair, blue lipstick and a hell of a rack from what he could see outside the retarded jumpsuits. And from the way they started off, he knew she would be a tough nut to crack. "Hey girlie." He smirked. She shot him a death glare from behind a sketch pad she obviously sneaked in. But from what Duncan's heard the cops are too terrified to try and take it from her.

He took a long stride over by her, sitting down so there elbows touched. She paused slightly, but quickly got back to her drawing. He noticed, and was a bit affected by the fact that she was drawing with her own blood. "So. I'm Duncan. Duncan Travis." Duncan said, holding his hand out.

"Ahh I've heard of you. Pool party in the fountain? Sweet. I'm Gwen. Fahlenbok." She reached for his hand and shook it lightly. Her hands were small, so his easily covered them as the shook. "No. Fucking. Way. Fahlenbok?" his mouth practically fell open. She smirked almost as deviously as Duncan himself. "So you've heard of me." She said, obviously not surprised.

"You are kidding me! How can a guy like me not hear about you?" he smirked, and even laughed a bit. The stuff Duncan did was stupid and for kicks. The shit this girl had done went beyond his capability. She turned her head and put down her book. "It's not like I care or anything." She scoffed, sounding just like a girl Duncan had laid awhile back. Heather, was it?

"So what are you in for this time?" she asked, hopping on the hard bed in the corner with her legs crossed. Duncan smiled and leaned back, his hands acting almost like pillows against the freezing cold walls. "Possessions of LARGE amounts of pot." He laughed, but she looked unamused. "Who the hell gets caught with weed? I mean really? Pathetic." She spat, laying back.

"Well, princess. Maybe I just like coming back here." He defended himself, knowing he was a dumbass for getting caught. She just scoffed and played with the cut on her finger. She was out of the ordinary. Something different. Usually Duncan just came to juvy to get stuck in a small room with some faggot who got a boner every time whipped it out to piss.

"Your drawings are really good." He cut in, trying to find something NOT cheesy to talk about. But it was far from a lie. If she was good with blood, she would be amazing with pencil. "Oh…thanks… I've been practicing. I love to draw." She said, and he smiled. Maybe they would get along after all.

And for a few good hours, they just talked. All about the things and people they've done. But not once did it pop up what she had done to get into Juvy this time. All he knew was this was her 3rd time.

"Hey Duncan…" Gwen whispered, not loosing contact with her finger. He made a small sound and urged her on with his hands. "Do you know what I did to get in here?" she asked, and he honestly didn't know what to say.

"I don't think so." Was all he could say without sounding like to desprite to know. "Duncan, the things I've done, the people I've hurt…you wouldn't even begin to know." She said, but he just sat up and looked over at her.

"Please don't go all mushy on me." He said, and she just laughed and nodded. "Yeah. You're right. You don't want to hear about my problems and crap…it's so stupid." She said, and lay back down. He couldn't help but stare at the beautiful girl and feel like such an ass for not trying to listen. She looked innocent, like she almost didn't belong in such a harsh place like this.

What could she have done that was so bad that she was having doubts about herself in such a way? He was aching to know now. But he wouldn't dare ask. But she looked like such a good girl, not someone devious or maniacal. She didn't belong here.

At least she didn't look like she did; anyways.

**(Reviews are hot)**

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